Forget-Me-Not
by xfallenangel13x
Summary: Had he gotten the chance to tell Yami that he loved him that day? Or the night before, the last time Yuugi had seen him – and ever would see him – alive and conscious? Did he get to say "good night" before his lover went home that evening? He couldn't remember if he had or not. How could he have forgotten that? (Sad!Puzzleshipping, Rated T for character death and angst.)


I wanted to write something angsty and sad for some reason... and then... well, this just uh... just kinda happened. Definitely more depressing than I had previously intended... I both love and hate this, simultaneously. Got a bit teary-eyed when writing and revising it, too, honestly. XD

Yay for sad Puzzleshipping...?

_~Fallen_

* * *

_**WARNING(S): **Angst and Character Death_

* * *

**_~ Forget-Me-Not ~  
_**

* * *

_Beep... beep... Beep... beep..._

That was the sound that greeted him, as he entered the small, sterile room. The tile was white, and it reflected the glare of florescent lighting up into his eyes. He was fighting the need to squint them in order to block it out. He was dressed in a white shirt, covered by a navy blue blazer, and completed with matching pants. At his chest, the young male held a small flower. His hand squeezed subconsciously at the thin stem within its grasp. And, if one were to look closely enough, they might have seen the subtle tremble both the boy and a blossom gave with the small movement – the way the leaves and delicate petals rustled against each other with the movement, and how the adolescent's shoulders were set much too stiffly.

His skin was pale and fair, with eyes large and soulful, and his features soft and almost childish. Spikes of deep ebony hair jutted from his skull, outlined by soft orchid. Shocks of blonde bangs formed crookedly over his face, and his head inclined to the all-too-white tile, rather than to observe the scene that awaited him.

The room was empty, save for him, his grandfather, and one other occupant...

An old, wrinkled hand pat his shoulder, in a sad, supportive kind of way. The sympathetic, pained expression of an elderly man came to the boy's mind's eye. His grandfather huffed a long, but quiet sigh. He could hear the way his exhaled breath caught and choked in his throat. "I'll... tell them to give you... s-some time to say g-goodbye," he murmured simply, and the man's grandson could only manage a miniscule nod. He could feel the burning of grief and stifled tears already taking hold in his chest. With a final, weak squeeze, the elder exited the room, carefully shutting the heavy door behind him for privacy.

The teen did not move right away. Instead, he savored the moments he had, staring at everything and anything nearby, from the floor, to the bloom in his hand, to the clock hanging off the wall at his right.

It read _12:24PM_. Still the middle of a school day.

He finally walked forward, to stop by the hospital bed, trying to ignore the way the heart monitor continued it's slow, steady beeping in the background. He looked down to the face of a teen, one that looked so much like himself, yet so different at the same time. Pale skin, with angular, well-defined features. Sharp eyes that remained closed. Hair made up of wild black, tipped in a crimson that very nearly matched the shade of his closed eyes, and a lightning-like fringe that framed his face – a few strands of which actually defied gravity to rest amongst the layers of black and red. His body was just... laying there. Unmoving. Lifeless.

Yet the beeping continued on. But the other knew that it would not last for much longer.

It was with that realization, that the tears suddenly began to fall. Forming within a moment, and cresting slowly down his cheeks in the next. Because laying there, in that bed, in that room, in that hospital, was his dearest of friends, and the love of his life.

It had been a roadway accident that had sent one Yami Sennen to this room, and the resulting coma that brought him to his inevitable fate. He had been riding to school on his brother's motorcycle ('borrowed', and used without said brother's permission), when a driver going far over the speed limit ran a red light at a four-way intersection, and hit the teen head-on. His injuries included severe head trauma, a break in his spinal cord, and several broken or fractured bones, as well as countless cuts and bruises. One of his ribs – broken in the accident – had also punctured his left lung. It had been fixed surgically, but when the youth did not wake from the anesthetic, the future became very uncertain. He had to be put on life support, so he could keep breathing without much risk to his internal injuries, and given nutrients through a feeding tube and IV drip. All he and his loved ones could do was sit, and wait for him to wake up. That's what the doctors had said.

That had been nearly eight months ago. It had all gone on as one continuous, painful blur of worry and what-ifs for them. And, at some point within the mix, Yami's condition only seemed to worsen. Until eventually, one fateful day, they had said all mental activity had since faded, and Yami was declared as officially brain dead.

He would never wake up, and the only reason that he was still there... was because of the life support. And even if he _did_ wake up, the medical man had said, the damage to his body would have made things a living Hell. With the damage done to his brain, he would have been lucky to maintain even the most basic of cognitive functions, and with the position of the break in his spine... he would have never walked again. So, the medical staff had reasoned with the family, it was probably better that he wouldn't be forced to live through that.

Not that he was going to wake up to it, anyways. The youth was just a vegetable now.

And today, Yami's family had finally decided to pull the plug.

The teen, one Yuugi Mutou, and boyfriend to Yami since their freshman year of high-school, gave a shuddering sigh. Tears rolled from his face, to land on the pristine sheets that covered his love's lifeless body. He knew it was for the best. He knew Yami wouldn't have wanted to stay like this – hell, he had even _told_ Yuugi that himself, once, a long time ago... when they were still in junior high. But that didn't make the fact that the man he loved was... wasn't going to _be there_ anymore after today any more bearable. Yes, he'd technically been 'gone' for months, now, but Yuugi had always held on to the lingering hope that somehow, his lover would regain consciousness. That Yami would return to his family and friends, to _him_. But it seemed to all be for naught.

Yuugi pulled up a cheap plastic chair, and took a seat, the flower still laying in the palm of one hand, while his other had located – and was now holding – one of Yami's own. It felt... cold, but warm, at the same time. Lukewarm. Not the way a healthy, _living_ human being should feel.

_Do you still remember,_ he thought silently, not trusting himself to speak, _when we were little?_

His hand increased its pressure, as if that could somehow transmit his thoughts to Yami, _We were playing in the park... and you asked me, 'what happens when you die?'_ His throat closed with a sob that just couldn't seem to escape. It made his throat burn and his heart throb with a pain beyond all others. He remembered the moment well. They had been but eight, when it happened, walking around the playground in Domino Park. Somehow, the concept of an end became the subject of their previously-childish conversation.

Yuugi had said then, in reply, "_You forget everything... Everything._" He swallowed, sniffling loudly.

"_Even you?_" an eight-year-old Yami had asked.

A strangled noise escaped his throat as his chest shook with constricted sobs. "_Yes... even me,_" he had answered.

"Y-You didn't wa-want t-to die," he finally sobbed out, curling forward as his frame shook uncontrollably. His hand held fast to Yami's unresponsive one like a lifeline, as if he were going to drown in the sea of his grief without that cooling touch. He missed it desperately. He longed for the feeling of those slender fingers brushing their way through his hair soothingly, wiping the strings of tears from his face. Lacing with his own, as strong arms drew him close, and that beautiful baritone whispering soft comforts and sweet nothings into his ears. Calling him _aibou_ again, talking with him and their friends, laughing along with the gang at one of Jounouchi's jokes, even if it he'd already told it a hundred times before. Yuugi already missed those times desperately.

How was he to spend the rest of his life without the one he loved at his side?

He knew that his time was running out. Soon, the doctors and nurses would enter this mournful place, along with Yami's father, and siblings, as well as Yuugi's own family, which consisted merely of his grandfather. His parents had passed away many years ago.

But then, this quiet moment of solitude would be ruined. Then, the plug would be pulled. Yami would be taken off of the support.

And, then... Yami would be no more.

Finally, the bloom in Yuugi's possession was revealed, only to be gently tucked beneath Yami's free hand, limp though it was. The fragile blue petals of a forget-me-not flower gazed serenely back up at him. The meaning behind the vibrant blue blossom was just as its name described.

_Never forget_.

He sat in silence for the last few minutes, the heart monitor long having faded from his attentions, and mixing into background noise. Just... thinking. Of the future ahead. Of how empty his life would feel after this day. Of how his first – and _only_ love (because, he had already decided, the joyousness of attachment was no where _near_ redeeming enough when faced with the agonies of departure) wouldn't _be there_ when he needed him anymore. Of how he was supposed to break the upcoming news to their friends. Though he knew that they would respect his father's wishes in this strictly being a family affair... Yuugi also knew that they would be devastated and angry, for not being able to be here when all was said and done...

There was a tiny, quivering sigh... and then... his prediction came true.

In came the doctor and nurses that had been caring for Yami, ever since the crash. They were leading in Yami's father, Akhenamkhanen, his older brother Atemu, and his younger sister Mana. It seemed that, where the first and third child had inherited the look of their father's Egyptian roots, Yami had been the only one to take after his mother's Japanese traits. Then, in came Yuugi's grandfather. Though, Yami had always said he was as much a grandpa to himself, as he was to his actual grandson. It was a feeling that had been mutual, even before the two childhood friends had began their relationship. Sugoroku Mutou had always seen Akhenamkhanen and his children as family, though Yuugi suspected that Yami had been his favorite of the three siblings.

The process was done with both swiftness and complete silence. The was no speaking, almost no _noise_, in general, aside from the quiet sniffling of gathered loved ones. Yuugi refused to move from his vigil, holding his love's hand the entire time, as if trying to comfort him through a process he probably didn't have even an inkling of awareness towards.

Behind him, he felt a hand rest over his shoulder. Only, this time, it wasn't his grandfather, but instead, Yami's elder brother, Atem. He was three years Yami and Yuugi's senior, and five years older than Mana, making him just over twenty years of age. The pair had had their fair share of disagreements in the past regarding his relationship with Atem's little brother, but it was all so... insignificant now.

With his free hand, Yuugi reached over and took the fifteen-year-old Mana's own. He felt her grip his palm with a mixture of silent desperation, fear, and gratitude for the gesture. For the solace it held. The two families had practically melded into one, over the years, and now, they were being thrown their hardest curve-ball life had dared to pitch at them yet. Sugoroku stood next to Akhenam for silent support, and Atem's hand tightened over Yuugi's shoulder as he shifted to press its curvature more firmly into the Egyptian's palm, as if the help the young man from losing his balance where he stood as their world gave out beneath them...

His eyes sought out the forget-me-not on Yami's chest, held in place by his unresponsive hand. A single, tiny petal broke away from its stem, and fluttered to the sheets.

Life always had to come to an end. Death's embrace was the end for all, one day. That was why cherishing the moments one had was so important. He had cherished Yami, the time that they spent together, and the time he had thought they would have... but now it all seemed as if... it hadn't been _enough_. Like he hadn't loved it all as much as he should have.

Had he gotten the chance to tell Yami that he loved him that day? Or the night before, the last time Yuugi had seen him – and ever _would_ see him – alive and conscious? Did he get to say "good night" before his lover went home that evening? He couldn't remember if he had or not.

How could he have forgotten that?

In the final moment, Yuugi dared to break the deafening almost-silence around him, threatening to asphyxiate him and drive him mad. "G-Good night, Yami," he whispered under his breath, silently praying the others wouldn't be able to hear the brokenness of his tone, but silently knowing that they could. The sentence was shattered with hushed weeping. "_I love you so much_..." His entire body was trembling – and though he knew it was his imagination, for just a single, fleeting moment... Yuugi could have sworn he felt Yami's hand return his hold in reassurance. As if to tell him that everything would be alright, even though he knew it wouldn't. Everything was going to be different after today, and he _knew_ that. Trying to picture the loving, ruby gaze of his _aibou_ staring back at him, one last time, watery amethyst eyes squeezed shut... and, lost somewhere in the depths of his mind...

_The remains of what we used to have... were taken away with the softest squeeze._

...he heard the flat, steady drone of a heart monitor wail.

_How did I forget...?_

* * *

_**Disclaimer: **__I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, but I do own the plot and writing of this story. Please do not steal my work._

* * *

_Review and tell me what you think, please?_


End file.
